


I Know You'd Do The Same For Me

by Maylor-Works (InvisibleBookReader)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assault, Canon Era, Casual Sex, Doesn't mean he's a dom, Frottage, Gay Panic, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Just because Brian's a top, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Maylor - Freeform, Mugging, Roger's just help out a mate who cant get himself off, Sexual Content, Sexual Frustration, Shower Sex, Slurs, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleBookReader/pseuds/Maylor-Works
Summary: Brian injures his hands and is unable to take care of himself properly. Roger volunteers to help him out.





	1. I'll Help You

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a two parter, I'll try to have the second part out asap. Please do not send the link of this fic to any of the members of Queen, the BoRhap cast, or anyone affiliated with them. This is all just a bit of fun.

When the four members of the newly formed ‘Queen’ first moved in together, Brian expected them to become sick of each other before the end of the first month. So it was a surprise when the still found themselves living together four years down the line. Queen took a while to gain momentum, and Brian felt that their true breakthrough moment came with their third album, “Sheer Heart Attack”. It was now 1977 and their new album, “News Of The World” was set to be released at the end of the year.

Brian slowly poured scalding water into his morning cup of tea. He waited for Roger to come up behind him and push him, causing hot water to spill everywhere. He waited for Freddie’s loud laughter, egging the blonde man on. He waited for John’s words of warning directed at the two. He would say, “someday, Roger, Brian’s going to snap and pour hot water over you”.

But it never came. 

Since Queen’s boom of success, each of the members could finally afford to move out of their small, shared apartment and live by themselves. They all still lived close by, all within a half hour’s drive from each other, but it just wasn’t the same. The other members would say that Brian was just too dependent on the other three, so he never mentioned how lonely he felt living without them. Maybe he had just missed the routine and habits that he’d formed while they lived together. 

At least while they were working on the new album, Brian got to see them almost every day. Today, Roger was coming to Brian’s house to meet up before the duo went to get lunch together. Then they would continue on into the studio, where they would bicker about a certain phrase or note in a song. It was a small gesture, taking him out to lunch, and Brian appreciated the attention his friend was giving him. 

Maybe he missed living with his band mates because Chrissie left him last month. It wasn’t a far stretch, he just needed any human contact. Living truly alone for the first time in his adult life was hard. He found himself in a rut of repetitive, meaningless activities when he wasn’t with the band. That, however, was just the side effects of a break up.

Brian raised the cup of tea to his mouth and stopped short when there was a knock at his door. 

“Brian! Open up!” Roger yelled and knocked again. Brian smiled and sat the cup back down on the bench. He made his way to the front door and swung it open. Roger stood there with his arms crossed and blonde hair resting on his shoulders. 

Brian could admit when a man was attractive, and he wasn’t blind to the fact that Roger was one of the best looking men he’d ever met. It didn’t change the fact that Brian was only attracted to women, no matter how much his mind wandered to ‘what ifs’. It was starting to worry him how frequent those thoughts were getting.

“Are you just gonna stand there and stare at me, or are we going to get lunch?” Roger asked in a teasing tone. Brian shut the door behind him, leaving the tea forgotten on the counter. They walked to Roger’s car parked in the street.

“So have you got any places in mind?” Roger asked, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“What? I thought you had already picked a place!” Brian shot back. Roger laughed at Brian’s shocked expression. 

“Relax, Bri, we can just drive around for a bit until we find somewhere,” Roger replied. Roger slipped the key into the car door and unlocked it. Just as Brian was about to follow Roger into the car, he remembered that he left his wallet inside. 

“Fuck,” Brian groaned as he felt for it in his back pockets.

“What is it?” Roger asked, already half in the car. He couldn’t tell him that he’d forgotten his wallet, or the Roger would insist on paying. It doesn’t matter how cheap the meal is, Brian wanted to shout him today for how kind he’d been recently.

“I just…forgot something. I’ll be right back, Rog,” Brian said. He rushed back into his house and searched for his wallet. After a minute or so he found it on his bedside drawers. He pocketed it and dashed back outside, not wanting to keep Roger waiting any longer. 

When Brian emerged outside, he noticed a man knocking on the window of Roger’s car. Roger had locked himself inside and was telling the man to piss off. He had a shopping trolley in tow, and he looked like he hadn’t showered in a month. It always sent a pang of guilt through Brian when he saw the homeless, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel back when he saw him trying to break the glass.

“Open the car, fag! Fucking piece of shit!” The man resorted to kicking the tires, and Brian could see that Roger was struggling to find a way out of the situation. Brian had to intervene, he should adopt the ‘kill them with kindness’ approach.

“Sir!” Brian shouted, walking towards the man attacking the car. He swivelled around.

“What do you want? Is that your boyfriend in this car? Get him out of it! It’s my car now!” The man yelled. Brian brushed off the boyfriend comment and instead made the mistake of gently touching the man’s shoulder.

“Do you need some help or-”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The man screamed. He grabbed Brian’s hand off of his shoulder and punch him in the jaw with his free fist. Brian fell to the ground when the throbbing of pain filled his head. He tried to stand up, placing his palms flat on the ground to push himself upwards. He wasn’t quick enough, the man slammed the heel of his boots into the tops of each of Brian’s hands several times each. Brian couldn’t help the screams of pain that ripped from his throat.

“That’s what you get for touching me,” the man cooed. He abandoned the trolley he had and ran back down the street, disappearing around the corner. Roger unlocked the car and jumped out. He kneeled by Brian’s side and reached out to stroke his hair. The stroking made Brian feel infinitesimally better, but the throbbing of his hands was too much to bare. 

“Come on Bri, we need to get you to the hospital,” Roger supplied. He placed his hands on either side of Brian’s arms and helped him stand again. Within seconds they were speeding down the road towards the nearest hospital. 

So much for lunch and that recording session.

***

Brian frowned at the white casts on his hands. As a guitarist, injured even one of your hands could have you out of work for months. Now both of his hands were in casts and the doctor said he had suffered from “multiple fractures in six metacarpals across both hands”. If they had been broken, he would have to bid being a musician goodbye for almost a year. 

What was just as bad was that he couldn’t exactly do anything by himself anymore. He couldn’t bend his hand or grasp anything because they were immobilised. The doctor suggested that he should have someone around most of the time, like a “dedicated friend” who could help him with day to day tasks. The doctor suggested that Brian could hire a maid or someone to help, but Roger immediately volunteered to take care of him. Brian refused at first, he didn't want to put that kind of burden on his first. Then Roger insisted and he couldn't find it within him to say no.

The doctor had planned a checkup in six weeks time to see if the bones had healed enough to use again. He also advised to press charges against the man that did this, Roger agreed. Brian refused, he thought it would be too long a process to go through, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry at the man. 

He wasn’t just angry at the man breaking his fucking hands, but also mad at the slurs the man called called Roger and himself. So what if Roger was gay? That doesn’t make him any less of a person, and it also doesn’t mean he deserves to get mugged in his own fucking car.

“Brian, I don’t want to ask any stupid, obvious questions, but how are you?” Roger asked. They were back at Brian’s house now, but they had stopped at Roger’s house on the way back to grab some of his belongings. He offered to move in for the next six weeks.

“Don’t even worrying about it, Bri,” He had said, “Think of it as me repaying you for protecting me today. It’ll be just like old times.”

In all honesty, Brian wanted to sleep. He’d been prescribed some pain meds to stop the ache for the first several days, but they’ve also made him really drowsy. 

“‘M alright at the moment, Rog. Just wanna sleep now,” Brian drawled. Roger was immediately at his side and helped him to his bedroom. He lay him down in his bed and turned off the light before making his way back to the door.

“Stay,” Brian uttered out into the darkness. Roger had almost left, but he couldn’t resist when Brian called out so sweetly like that to him. He walked back over to where Brian was lying underneath the sheets, almost unconscious. He crawled in next to him and pressed himself against Brian’s warm torso. Brian wrapped his arms around the smaller man, trying not to knock his hands in the process. Roger ended up with his head on his chest and was lulled to sleep by the soft rising and falling of his breaths.

***

A week had passed and to say Brian was on edge was an understatement. He had no more bloody freedom, and Roger was basically a slave. He had to cook and clean for Brian and although Roger was his friend, he almost seemed to be going overboard.

“Don’t worry, I know you’d do the same for me if I was in your position,” Roger would say. And he’d be right. It was the afternoon of the seventh day when Brian caught the telltale signs of guilt on Roger’s face. 

“Hey Rog, come here, sit down for a second,” Brian said. He eyed the couch next to him. Roger hesitated before he sat next to Brian, their thighs flush together. Brian shivered at the pressure and almost pushed Roger away. There was also another downside to having both his hands in a cast. The rising sexual frustration in Brian had gotten too hard to handle, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was still a man with needs, and even Roger’s bare skin against Brian’s legs was too much to handle. He shuffled away from the blonde man, and tried to ignore the momentary look of hurt that flashed across his face. 

“What’s wrong?” Roger asked, cocking his head slightly. He shuffled up next to Brian and he’d forgotten what he was going to ask.

“I- uh, you shouldn’t get too close to me,” Brian choked out.

“And why’s that?” Roger asked, folding his arms.

“I haven’t showered in a week, it’s so disgusting,” Brian said. It was only partially the reason he didn’t want Roger so close. He could barely get dressed by himself. He couldn’t imagine trying to wash all his hair and dry it afterwards, it would be too much of a hassle. 

“Oh, that’s fine, I imagine that you’d struggle a bit with washing your hair, I can help you,” Roger answered. He enclosed a small hand around Brian’s elbow and dragged him up. As much as Brian wanted to protest, those ‘what ifs’ started crowding his mind again.

“Rog, you really don’t need to do this for me,” Brian muttered, feeling a little sheepish. 

“Nonsense. Like I said, I know you’d do the same for me,” Roger smiled and carted Brian behind him. Fuck, this wasn’t going to end well. Brian was a string, wound up too tight and ready to snap at any second. Roger’s touch sent a pleasant warmth throughout his body and he tried to ignore it.

"Besides, do you actually want to go six weeks without showering?" Roger asked with a raised eyebrow. Brian shook his head, defeated.

Roger directed him into the bathroom and shut the door. His fingers started unbuttoning his shirt and Brian could help but stare as each inch of skin revealed itself painfully slow. Brian, however, didn’t match Roger’s actions. Instead, he froze on the spot, except for the blood rushing southwards. 

“What are you doing?” Brian asked. Roger looked up from the buttons he was undoing and met Brian’s gaze. 

“Getting in with you, I said I was going to help you, right? I don't want to get my clothes wet,” Roger teased as he took off his shirt. Brian tried so hard not to stare, but for some reason he just couldn’t look away. What was happening to him?

“Rog, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Brian urged. If the pooling heat was anything to go off, he’d just end up embarrassing himself in front of his best friend.

“And why’s that?” Roger asked with a smirk. His hands reached for Brian's fly. 

“Listen, I- uh, I haven’t been able to…” Brian didn’t know how to phrase it, but it was better to be truthful now then have an awkward encounter in the shower. Roger seemed to know what he was giving at, and rubbed his arm.

“Bri, there’s no reason to act so awkward around me, we’re best mates right? I understand, and I’m not going to hate you for it. It’s just a dick, right? I don’t care as long as it doesn’t bite me,” Roger explained. A tiny weight lifted from Brian’s chest, but he still felt ready to breakdown. 

“Right,” Brian affirmed. He worked at getting his own clothes off, slowly of course. He still hadn’t gotten used to stripping yet, it was going to take some time. As Brian managed to get his shirt off, he looked over to Roger and blushed a furious red when he saw that he was already nude. He stepped into the shower to turn the taps on, adjusting the temperature so it had just the right amount of steam. 

Brian couldn’t draw his eyes away from the gentle curve of his ass. It looked firm, and fuck, if he wasn’t turned on before, he was now. Roger turned around and Brian went back to fumbling with his zipper. When Roger saw Brian struggling, he softly sighed and approached him. 

Brian gasped when nimble fingers grazed over his crotch and unzipped his pants. Roger pulled them down to the floor and soon his underwear joined them. He’d never felt so exposed in his life, and it was even worse that Roger was looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. 

Roger stood up again, keeping his eyes on Brian. A sudden gasp shocked him and Roger dashed to the sink behind him. He kneeled down on the floor and Brian couldn't help but look at his ass again.

“I almost forgot, you have to wear these when you’re around water. Otherwise the cast will go to shit. I bought them the other day, but I never got around to telling you about them,” Roger explained while he fastened the cast protectors around his hands.

Soon enough, Roger pulled Brian into the steam of the shower and pushed him under the stream. His curly hair hung in loose locks underneath the water and covered his eyes. Roger reached up and brushed it to the side, giggling a little. How could be be cute and fucking hot at the same time? 

Roger grabbed a bar of soap and lathered it across Brian's chest. The feeling of his soapy hands working their magic and the steam running up his back was too much and Brian was hard within seconds. Roger must’ve felt it too, but he just kept rubbing Brian down.

He worked his way down his stomach and hips and oh-so-slowly around his cock, but he never touched it. Brian was losing his mind, he was sure of it. Soft sighs fell from Brian’s mouth and he leaned into Roger’s touch. He couldn’t believe he was letting his body take over like this. 

And then Roger finally touched him. He took him in his hand and the racing sensation of pleasure matched his levels of confusion and embarrassment.

“Rog, I-” Brian started, but Roger reached up and silenced him with a heated kiss. Roger moaned into his mouth, sending vibrations through him, and he moved his hand up and down Brian’s length. His head fell into the crook of Roger’s neck. His long, wet hair obscured his view and ran down Roger’s back. 

He threw his arms over Roger’s shoulders and pulled him in closer. Their cocks brushed deliciously and Brian felt relieved that Roger wasn’t just doing this out of pity. That he was just as horny as Brian. Well, maybe not as much, he’d gone without this kind of stimulation for a week. He was still a man with needs, after all.

Roger rolled his hips in time with Brian’s. The smaller man let out moans and cries of pleasure, and it was music to Brian’s ears. He sped up his actions, hand still stuck between the two pale bodies. Roger wrapped his hands around Brian and himself, forcing their dicks together and Brian felt his orgasm building. It wouldn’t take much more, he was right on the edge-

Roger delivered a particularly hard thrust of his hips. He tightened his grip around the two of them and Brian spilled into his hand. He moaned out Roger’s name as his vision blurred and soon he felt Roger cumming too. As his head cleared, he watched Roger come down from his high.

His face sported a red blush and his pupil were blown wide with lust. His chest heaved with effort and his legs began to shake. Brian hooked his arms underneath Roger’s underarms and pulled him in even closer, chests flush against one another. Roger leaned into Brian, almost collapsing on him. The blonde’s hair stuck to Brian’s chest and it was almost adorable. Adorable was such a strange word to describe a man who had just jerked him off. 

Roger came back to his senses and the water had washed all their evidence away. Brian retreated into his thoughts for the rest of the time they spent together. Roger rubbed some shampoo and conditioner through his hair before turning off the taps. He helped Brian out and wrapped a towel around him. Roger grabbed his own towel and turned to leave. 

Wait.

That couldn’t be it.

He couldn’t let him leave like this, with all the questions still crowding his mind. 

“Roger, wait,” Brian called out. He stepped forward and ran his eyes over Roger for the thousandth time in twenty minutes. He chased the little water droplets cascading down his chest and disappearing into the white, fluffy towel.

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” Brian asked. It was better to get this over with now than to let it hang in the air for several days. Or even worse, weeks. Roger merely smiled up at him. He reached forward and cupped Brian’s jaw, the other side of the yellowish bruise.

“We don’t need to, I helped you out like I promised. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again Bri: I know you’d do the same for me,” Roger explained.

“Now hurry up, I’m going to make us some tea and we can finish working on that new song of yours.” With that, Roger waltzed out of the room. 

Brian was left standing in a puddle of water on the tiles. His hair was still straight and plastered to his sides. At least it felt the cleaner than it had been in the past week. But Brian was left with more questions. Questions about his sexuality, and questions about Roger’s definition of a friendly favour. 

Would this ruin anything?

No, Brian concluded, not if he just acted normally. Maybe if he swept this incident under the rug and ignored it like Roger seemed to, he could get over this stupid infatuation. 

That sounded like a plan.


	2. You've Done An Amazing Job, Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to update this almost straight after I posted the first part, but I got swept up in other commitments. Anyways, here's the second and final part!

They didn’t talk about it, but it kept happening. Each time after Roger left, Brian felt his confusion mounting, spiralling, forming a black hole in his chest. Four painstakingly long weeks this has been happening and it seemed like the elephant in the room only bared its tusks to Brian. 

After each “favour”, Roger went straight back to how he was acting before. Like this was just a normal thing to happen between two friends. All the awkwardness came from Brian’s end. He tried to bottle it down and decided to match Roger’s energy in their interactions. 

A new dilemma quickly arose. There was a certain line that Brian swore he wouldn’t cross with his strange attraction to Roger over the years. This whole affair had been way over the line, and there was no fucking hope of going back now. 

The press had gotten hold of the information that Queen’s guitarist had injured his hands. Most papers expressed concern about the release of their upcoming album, and wondered if it was going to be postponed because of the recent developments. One particular news source managed to snap photos of Roger gripping Brian’s bicep and leading him into his, their, house. The accompanying headline was rife with slurs and Roger set the paper on fire. 

“The world’s gone mad, Bri,” Roger had started once he finished burning that particular paper, “two guys can’t be seen entering a fucking house together without everyone thinking they’re gay,” he finished strongly. Brian nodded in agreement, it seemed as though Roger was either ignoring or oblivious about how correct the papers were. 

“Because we aren’t, are we?” Roger asked. Now that caught Brian’s attention. This was not a conversation he wanted to have today. 

“Uh, I-,” he started.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either,” Roger cut him off before he could begin to answer. That sounded like he was reassuring himself rather than looking out for their reputation. 

Roger left the living room and made his way upstairs. Brian was left alone, just him and the sprawled newspapers. One title stared up at him, “The Death Of Queen?”. Rather over dramatic over two fractured hands, but Brian couldn’t help but think that the headline might come true if Roger and him didn’t sort out whatever was happening between them.

That was a problem for the morning, Brian decided. He left the papers lying there and followed Roger’s path up the stairs. He heard the distant patter of water, Roger must be in the shower. Brian was never the one to initiate…whatever this was, so he decided to go to his room to sleep off the strange feelings in his gut. Once he shut the door behind him, he stripped as quick as he could to his boxers and crawled under his covers.

No sooner had Brian closed his eyes to sleep, someone snuck into his room, waking him up in the process. The little clock next to his bed read 2:06am. Even in his half-asleep state, he knew it could have only been one person.

“R-rog?” Brian whispered out into the darkness. The only source of light was creeping in from under the door, barely illuminating the blonde’s thin, sparsely clothed frame. 

“Yeah, it’s me, Bri,” Roger replied. Brian pushed himself up onto his elbows as Roger made his way to Brian’s bed. Before Brian could ask what Roger was doing in his room in the middle of the night, Roger straddled Brian’s hips and pulled him into a searing kiss. 

A choked off moan escaped Brian before he could stop it, but that only spurred Roger on more. Small hands found their way to curly hair, pulling him in deeper, and Brian felt himself harden despite his early promises. So much for telling him that this had to stop. Only, Roger had never sought Brian out in the middle of the night before. 

With no mention of helping Brian get off in his incapacitated state, there was only one reason that came to mind. It sent a chill down Brian’s spine and blood to his dick.

Roger wanted this for himself.

With his hands lying at his sides, Brian felt rather useless, but that didn’t deter him from attacking Roger’s lips with just as much ferocity as the younger man. Roger broke away from his lips and started marking Brian’s neck instead, hands still woven in his brunette curls. 

Brian seized the moment to speak while his lips were free.

“Rog, I-”

“Shhh,” Roger’s voice hummed into the side of his neck, “we don’t need to talk, Bri.” Brian opened his mouth to rebut what Roger said, but a roll of Roger’s hips aligned their cocks and a moan left his mouth instead. Instinctively, Brian raised his hands to grasp the blonde’s hips, but they fell back to his sides when he realised how awkward casts grabbing him would feel for Roger.

Roger kept working up and down Brian’s neck, licking and sucking every visible inch of skin, until one spot made Brian swear loudly. He kept sucking and kissing that spot, leaving a hickey like some kind of horny teenager. Then the hands left Brian’s hair and trailed down his body until they reached his waistband.

Roger made quick work removing Brian’s boxers and his own oversized white shirt. The drummer leaned back to admire Brian’s naked form for the umpteenth time in the past four weeks. Brian felt his face burn under the cerulean gaze. His own gaze mirrored Roger’s actions, travelling down the lithe form straddling him. Brian’s eyes fell on the lewd positioning of their cocks, leaning up against each other, only separated by Roger’s boxers. 

When Roger noticed where Brian was looking, he discarded the article of clothing separating the two, then captured Brian’s lips with his own again. Their chests were flush, Roger’s hands rested on Brian’s moving hips, each stroke sending sparks through their bodies. 

“Fuck, you- you have no idea how hard you make me,” Roger panted out against Brian’s jaw. Brian’s brain short circuited at the statement, he couldn’t even form a coherent response. 

The guitarist’s cock fell into the groove of Rogers hipbone and that telltale heat in his stomach started to swell. He could hear in Roger’s moans that he was reaching that point too. 

“Fuck, Rog-” Brian gasped. Almost instantly afterwards, Roger dissolved into incoherent moans as he spilled over both of their torsos. His erratic movements caused Brian to come too, coating their chests. 

Roger didn’t flee the room afterwards, instead he curled up to Brian’s side for the night.

***

 

“Good news Mr. May, your hands have healed exceptionally well. Far better than most men I treat with similar injuries,” the doctor added the second sentence as a quiet afterthought. 

“Does this mean the casts can come off?” Brian asked tentatively. 

“Certainly. However, I advise that you start easily with playing guitar at first, we don’t want to cause any unnecessary aggravation. If there are any troubles, I can refer you to a physio for further consultation,” the doctor explained.

Six agonising weeks had passed and finally the damn casts were coming off. Having his hands exposed to the fresh air felt strange at first, but he was more worried about Roger. He was in the waiting room, and would drive the duo back to Brian’s once he emerged without a cast.

The two drove back in silence, the radio filling that void. Meanwhile, Brian’s mind was a mess. This would be the end. The end of the midnight visits, the shower rendezvous, and every other moment they shared that would cause Freddie to tease them endlessly if he ever knew about them.

They made their way up Brian’s driveway and into his living room, the guitarists’s mind still ablaze. They would go back to touring the world, selling number one hits, recording in the studios, all the while sparing each other a knowing glance every so often. Brian couldn’t stand the thought.

“Stay.”

The word left his mouth before he could stop it.

“What?” Roger asked in a small voice. 

“Move in with me, permanently,” Brian proposed, closing the distance between him and Roger. He had the drummer against a wall, physically and figuratively.

“Oh, Brian, listen-” Roger started, but for once Brian cut him off first.

“We haven’t spoken about what we’ve been doing for the past six weeks, and it’s driving me insane. I can’t carry on worrying about the ‘what ifs’ anymore. I don’t want things to go back to the way they used to be. I don’t think I’d cope with knowing what’s beneath the surface of your clothing and not being able to touch you anymore.” Brian grasped Roger by the collar of his shirt. 

“You can’t lie to me, this got way too far out of hand to just simply be ‘a mate helping out another mate’. For you to just walk out now, and for things to go back to the way they were before…that would break me. Now, please tell me what’s going on,” Brian finished, eyes locked on Roger’s. A weight lifted off his chest once he let all of that out, but then a dark feeling of dread crept in and took its place. What if he really had just looked into it too far?

“I’m in love with you, always have been,” the quiet confession startled Brian, he’d never heard Roger’s voice so soft and vulnerable before. When Brian didn’t answer, he continued.

“I thought that if I helped you out, I could control my feelings more. You know, take off some of the edge, but it just made them a thousand times worse. I swear, Bri, I swear I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel this lost. I just- I love you. That’s all there is to it,” Roger finished. He bowed his head and averted his gaze to the floor. Brian’s heart clenched at the outpouring of emotion. Brian placed a long finger under Roger’s chin and pulled his head back up from its bowed position.

He softly joined their lips, their first one not filled with lust, but with a newfound emotion. Brian was the first to pull away.

“Stay with me, I’m serious when I say we don’t have to go back to the way things used to be,” Brian asked again.

“I think I’d like that, Mr. May, very much,” Roger teased before he pulled Brian down into another kiss, more heated than the last.

Now, the only problem they faced was Freddie and John. There was about to be a huge shift in the band dynamic, but that was a problem for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
